


Don't You Deserve to Be Happy?

by Klomonx



Series: Chuu/Kureo Romance Collection [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25367416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klomonx/pseuds/Klomonx
Summary: Chuu Hachikawa walks Kureo Mado home every night for some months before suggesting they try to help rebuild eachother's hearts. Fluff, sweet, one shot.Typos, minor edits expected.
Relationships: Chuu Hachikawa/Mado Kureo, Mado Kasuka/Mado Kureo
Series: Chuu/Kureo Romance Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837018
Kudos: 5





	Don't You Deserve to Be Happy?

Kureo sat back in his chair, sighed, and stretched. The office was blacked out, another late night. He sat in almost complete darkness, a single desk lamp illuminated his desk which sat covered in various open documents and notes. Along with pictures of Ghouls suspected or eliminated also sat many crude pictures of his family. Increasingly, this number of pictures went from a three person stick figure portrait to a lonely two. The sun that shone in the corner became less and less cheery, the colors more erratic, and Kureo noted, his face more ghoulish. His eye twitch more characteristic of his current life, alongside his growing hair.  
He hadn’t the heart to throw away the old pictures, but he had hidden them deep in a spare file cabinet. They were a reminder of the sweeping slope the last two years had been. Of the sadness, of the loneliness. It hurt them both in different ways, and tonight – one of many late nights – Kureo was hurting greatly. It was on nights like these Kasuka would take him from the office and they’d walk home together. It was Kasuka who would listen to him talk about his cases even after hours, Kasuka who smiled at his fascination with the quinques. Kasuka who let him handle her quinque while others laughed or mocked him, and Kasuka who, on nights like these, would remind him he was human. Take him into her arms, if only for a moment and remind him of the love he had to give, of the love he had to receive.  
With her gone, the nights were always cold, always raining or snowing, even in summer. Akira never waited up for him, never talked to him at night if he wasn’t home by bed time. It was understood that night time was the worst time for him. That, despite his calm and happy demeanor, at night the facade broke, the mask fell. And he cried.

His body twitched, no longer hiding the fact his sadness loomed over him, pulled at him and tugged at him. With no juniors or fellows to see him, his eyes fell to slits with the force of his tears. He held his head in his gloved hands, the images of his wife’s desecrated remains flashed through his mind. His failure, his grief, leaked from the depths of his soul.  
In between his sobs, the elevator dinged. He didn’t hear it at first, but the door opening was hard to miss, and he felt himself on edge. He was terrified, his brain reeling – could a ghoul have found him here? He stood up, stumbling and fumbling for his attache case, as the silhouette stepped out.  
It was a man, broad shouldered and stoic. His coat reached down past his knees, his hair short and spiked upright. Circular glasses reflected the light, hiding serious gray eyes.  
Kureo relaxed slightly, recognizing him as Chuu Hachikawa, a coworker of Kasuka’s.  
“Hello Kureo,” his voice was deep and monotone, “I came to get you.”  
Kureo was flustered, trying to hide his grief and calm his fear. “Get me?” He raised an eye brow, “sir-”  
“Chuu,” he corrected, his head tilted implying a smile behind the long turtle neck which came up to his nose. “Please call me Chuu. I was a friend of Kasuka’s.”  
Kureo nodded, placing a gloved hand on his face, finding it was still wet.  
“I know how you feel,” he continued, “there’s no need to hide it. We all miss her.”  
His facial deformity was well known to the older members and was something of a right of passage to younger – he was one of many Investigators scarred and deformed to the point they became almost more Ghoul than Man. Not unlike how Kureo felt.  
“Two years still feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?” Chuu continued, “it’s only been recently the last of the Dober Operation was taken off life support. I’m the last one now. I wanted to talk and walk you home.”  
Kureo was still confused, “I don’t need walked home.”  
“It’s dark, and raining. You don’t have an umbrella, do you?”  
Chuu lifted up his black umbrella, it was closed and neatly presented as he placed its tip back on the ground.  
Kureo turned off his light, slowly lifted up his case, “I’ll be fine.”  
“With our losses...we only have each other. Kasuka was a good friend, she never shut up about you.”  
Kureo smiled slightly, a small inching smile among the thorns of sadness; “the juniors called us lovebirds.”  
With a sigh Kureo joined Chuu by his side.  
“Tell me about her,” Chuu said, “I think it’s been a long time since you’ve had the chance.”  
“The juniors now don’t know about it, other parts of me have overshadowed her now.”  
“The Quinque Maniac, right?”  
“That or Mad Mado, I suppose you’re no stranger to it either.”  
“They don’t let me out on most routine operations, scares the new recruits and I have a...reputation, I suppose.”  
“I guess we’re the CCG’s badly kept secrets. Most wouldn’t have survived or stayed with them after what we’ve been through, yet here we are.”  
Chuu and Kureo stepped into the elevator together, side-by-side, and left the offices together, side-by-side.  
“With what I’ve seen, I couldn’t quit knowing It’s out there,” Kureo said, “I can’t quit leaving Akira in harm’s way, I can’t quit leaving the Juniors either. It’s an obligation to rid these freaks from the planet.”  
“We both have similar mindsets. As long as the Dober is out there, I can hardly sleep. The higher ups say the Ghouls might have humanity like we do, I’ve heard rumors of them infiltrating our schools.”  
Kureo nodded, confirming.  
“But what human could show no mercy? They’re worse than animals.”  
“How many did they take from you?”  
“Ten. All of my classmates from the Academy, all of my closest friends and Mentor.”  
“I’m sorry.” Kureo’s words were heavy, a deeper understanding than the condolences either had heard at the funerals of their respective losses. Both knew without saying how deep these scars went, how many times the nightmares stole their sleeping hours from them, how many times they awoke hoping it was all a bad dream and the loneliness they felt realizing the empty seat or spot on the bed was going to remain that way. The rest of the world moved on, they did not.  
The silence was broken by the heavy rain, tapping on the umbrella that hung over both of them. The men passed up the bars where their younger compatriots would gather, drinking no longer bringing them any sort of joy. It was rare they were seen with anyone outside of working hours, rarer still they socialized at any events. For Kureo he only appeared to support Akira, for Chuu he only appeared when absolutely needed.  
“Did you ever hear her laugh?” Kureo asked, eventually, “the first time I heard it my heart jumped. It was a genuine laugh, unrestrained by all the pressure she had on her.”  
“Only once,” Chuu replied, “when she spoke about you.”  
“What story was it?” Kureo pondered for a moment, “my proposal?”  
Chuu nodded, “it was after hours when we and some of the others met up for drinks. She barely had half of one when she told us the story. At first we thought it was only a joke. She had a reputation for rejecting partners. But she became very serious when she told us she said yes.”  
“Did you believe her?”  
“A nerdy dork like you?” Chuu’s serious tone wiggled, “you had been friends for years at that point. I think we all supposed she’d never marry, but the way she spoke of you...you were a light she didn’t know she needed.”  
“Her family was renown and she always tried to be perfect. I think, sometimes, the only reasons she chose me was because I had no pressure. I was an orphan, no background to speak of, no titles to uphold.”  
“She thought you were cute, too.” Chuu added, which got a small laugh from Kureo.  
They soon approached the building complex that was Kureo’s home. The rain still poured, and the two paused on the doorstep.  
“It was nice speaking to you,” Kureo said, ascending the stairs to his building’s door.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”  
He hesitated, taken back by this request - “yes, I think so. It was nice to talk about it.”  
Chuu nodded, bowing his head as a goodbye, “goodnight, Kureo.”  
Every night Chuu walked him home, citing the rain or darkness as a reason, even when the moon was full. His long nights became a little less dark, a little less long, and his dreams became softend. The nightmares of blood and organs became easier to bear, less a guilt trip that gutted him nightly and more of an annoyance, a slight sense of nausea that woke him up.  
More than once Akira had actually been awake when he came home, more than once he was able to spend time with her before she fell asleep. Gradually, he found himself awaiting the appearance of the stoic broad shouldered Chuu, who stood at least a foot taller than him and whose cold demeanor hid the warmer vulnerable center from the outside.  
Eventually the late nights became shorter, Chuu visiting earlier and earlier, though still long past the working day. It made the work day less grueling to hear Kureo’s voice, the memories they had to reminiscence about made them grow stronger. The pain they held in their hearts was eased, instead of building in a homicidal rage toward the Ghouls and the Ghouls alone, there was a tenderness each had in tending to the wounds of the other.

Until one night, Kureo was lead to his doorstep at sunset, the sun still peaking out over the hills and the occasional passerby still occurred. Chuu joined him on the doorstep, rather than the bottom of the stairs.  
“Goodnight Chuu,” Kureo smiled, turning to unlock the door just as he always had done.  
“Kureo,” Chuu said, bringing his attention back, “wait.”  
Kureo’s attention turned questioningly toward his companion.  
He drew Kureo into an embrace and kissed him. Immediately the taste and smell of copper washed through Kureo’s throat, the transgression reignited memories of the day he discovered Kasuka’s remains. The smell of rotting flesh and decaying matter, the discovery that haunted his waking hours, that he kept secret from Akira. He pulled away in repulsion, his stomach lurching and his mind floating in a seasickness.  
He covered his mouth and coughed, swallowing bile.  
Chuu realized all too late the memories he had triggered, and concern and shame washed over him.  
Kureo stumbled away ignoring Chuu’s attempts at comfort. He sat on the step regaining his breath and demeanor.  
“I’m sorry,” Chuu apologized, “I forgot.”  
Kureo panted, his body calming down as the taste and smell of copper left him, as he reestablished a sense of equilibrium.  
“I---It’s...” Kureo started, unsure of how to continue, he swallowed his pride and gave himself time to recover. Was it really okay? It was no doubt the two had much in common, and there was comfort to be found in his embrace, comfort in knowing he was not alone in the grief he had. Yet, the guilt that rose in his chest was there, his chest tightened at the thought.  
“I don’t expect to replace Kasuka, I could never do that.” Chuu offered, “but don’t you deserve happiness? Don’t we deserve to be happy?”  
He gave Kureo his hand and lifted him back up.  
“Think on it, at least?”  
Kureo hesitated as he turned toward the door, before nodding.  
“Yes, we deserve to be happy. Same time tomorrow?”  
Chuu seemed relieved and nodded before leaving the doorstep, watching Kureo pass through the door. Only then did they both realize they had been blushing the whole time.


End file.
